


what makes connections

by arionbw965



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Songs of War (Cartoon)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Mild Angst, but it's easy to miss, mild af romance to the point it's nonexistent rn, there is a bit of tension ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arionbw965/pseuds/arionbw965
Summary: After a failed battle against the Voltaris, Thalleous Sendaris steps out of the medical tent and intercepts the Tidesinger. Words were said after he follows him into his tent, only to find that he wanted to take them back.
Relationships: Achillean Nestoris/Thalleous Sendaris, Thalleous Sendaris/Achillean Nestoris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	what makes connections

**Author's Note:**

> i have no regrets. they're cute and no one can stop me

" _I never asked to be chosen!_ "

Thalleous felt his stomach churn at the intensity of the Tidesinger's voice. Achillean's brilliant gold eyes burned with frustration, his Song's powers rearing up around him; responding to his emotion. Thalleous stepped back.

Achillean's face fell. Guilt overwhelmed his features, and the effects of his Songs dissipated. He took a step back as well, less voluntary than what Thalleous had done. He tripped, unable to find his footing with the tears flooding his eyes. His voice cracked this time.

"I never asked to be chosen," he sniffled with a futile attempt to avoid crying. "I never asked to be a champion; the Tidesinger. I never wanted to wield a blade in my life. I never wanted to fight my _brother_."

His voice cracked again, and a small whimper escaped his throat. He clapped a hand over his mouth, sealing his eyes shut. The tears began to fall. The Tidesinger trembled, sobbing.

Thalleous Sendaris watched, frozen in place. What could he do? The Ardoni's most powerful warrior broke into tears before him. He took full accountability for that.

_"You are the Tidesinger—!"_

Carefully, hesitantly, he stepped forward. Then again, until he was within arm's reach. Then he knelt down in front of the Tidesinger, brows furrowed.

_"What you did today was reckless; you are our best asset against the Voltaris—"_

Thalleous reached forward. His fingertips brushed against the golden markings. Achillean flinched at the contact, causing him to jerk back. But his eyes cracked open a smidge. The vulnerability was a curious sight. Few usually see a warrior— especially a male in these years of turmoil and pressure— crumble this much; fall this hard.

_"You cannot keep trying to spare the Deathsinger! It is clear that he will not relent. It is your duty; your obligation as the champion of your clan to—"_

"I.." Thalleous faltered. "I am sorry. I should not have been so harsh. I.."

Achillean simply nodded.

Thalleous sighed. He leaned back, sitting cross-legged in front of Achillean. He could have left. Anyone else would've. But he knew he had to fix the things he broke.

"I.. I am aware of your history with the Deathsinger. And with that information in mind, I should not have—"

"Thalleous," the Tidesinger rasped. His arms wrapped around his legs, pulling them into his chest. "You are not at fault. What you said was, indeed, the truth."

He chuckled sadly, and Thalleous thought he saw the golden markings on his body flicker. "I just wish it were different."

Thalleous sighed softly.

"We all do. No one wanted this war."

"No one." Achillean echoed.

"I am truly sorry," Thalleous mumbled. "For.. Ingressus, was his name?"

The Tidesinger nodded as if he were in mourning.

"I see.." Thalleous said. "It must be hard. Leading the nations, being forced to play peacekeeper in a war you never wanted to take part in. And on top of all that.."

Achillean laughed without humor. His tone was dry.

"You get used to it. Slowly."

"You call him brother. I trust you were close?"

"I never had a brother by blood. Ingressus was the closest I had. He was the one who taught me to fight and use Songs. In return, I taught him to fish," he snorted. "And he wanted to learn it, can you believe? His life was so full of combat and strife he didn't know a fishing rod until I showed him one myself. And he was so happy doing it.."

A small smile played on Achillean's lips, his eyes faraway. Like he was reliving the simpler times. It fell not long after.

Thalleous, again hesitantly, raised a hand. It fell gently on his comrade's forearm. There was no flinch this time. He didn't take it back.

"I myself had.." he smiled very briefly. "More than a few siblings."

Achillean winced. "Not to be blunt, but—"

"All that remain of my family are me, a brother, and a sister in Ataraxia. They do not fight.. The ones who did before me, however.. It was all the same cause."

He didn't need to elaborate. Ingressus's red marks flashed before the Tidesinger's eyes.

"We all have different stories," he tried. "Motives, if you will. And we all do what we think is right. The Voltaris are no exception to that."

_What they think is right murdered my family._

Thalleous strained to keep his mouth shut.

"Of course, it hurts." Achillean sighed. "To fight Ingressus. I look at him on the battlefield, and I never see the Deathsinger. Only the boy who oggled at a fishing rod not so long ago.

"It's only when I falter in my attacks do I remember why I fight. Only when people get hurt. I try not to get carried away, but—" he inhaled sharply. "What would.. Pardon me, but what would you do if one of your siblings were on the other side of the war?"

Thalleous's expression was unreadable.

"I understand." was all he could manage.

The silence took over from there. The light was dim around them, the fizzling flame of the torch in the brazier lightning the tent orange. It seemed to ignite against Achillean's golden markings, sparking a faint red.

Finally: "Thalleous?"

"Yes?"

"Would.. Would you be offended if I asked you to leave? I just need to think.. Ground myself in my quarters."

Thalleous was taken aback slightly. _Would he be offended?_ When did that matter? The questions never made their way to his face. He nodded and stood.

"Of course."

Thalleous could feel the grass under the sheet of the tent. It pricked his soles like his spiking anxiety. His hand found the tent flap, about to pull, then—

"Thalleous?"

He looked back curiously.

Achillean was on one knee, a hand reaching out as if he was about to sprint after him. He froze for a beat, then put down his arm. Thalleous held in a laugh. He couldn't help it.

"Thank you for.." Achillean paused. "Listening."

Thalleous offered him a small smile. A genuine one. A little rarity, he realized some time ago, that made him feel just an ounce better in the bitter, lonely times of war.

"You are most welcome, Achillean."

Achillean seemed to jolt at that. He sat back down. Thalleous hesitated yet again.

"For what it's worth, I know how hard you try. Truly, I do."

Achillean nodded, trying to return the smile. Thalleous appreciated it. With that thought in his mind, he left Achillean's tent.

**Author's Note:**

> fml


End file.
